


Cold Arms

by froyobro



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Both physical and emotional my dudes, Broken Boys, Captured, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, I'll write a tedtalk about these dynamics if you want Ill do it dont think i wont, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Porn With Plot, Smut, Soft and Caring Bucky, Sort of happy ending, Steve being vulnerable, Top!Bucky, Violent, bottom!Steve, broken but still good, bucky taking care of steve, but im all about, for once, mention of top!steve, saved - Freeform, sweet sweet pain, very violent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 14:16:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17469158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froyobro/pseuds/froyobro
Summary: "In my cold arms, you don't sleepIn my cold arms, your fear beatsIn my cold arms...You stay"Steve Rogers was captured by Hyrda. He got out, but there were parts of him he wouldn't get back ever again.Bucky tried to put together the pieces.





	Cold Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Again, you will have to die if I know you in real life and you read this.  
> This is so painful, guys.  
> Like, Steve got wrung out.  
> Don't ask why I wrote it, Im doing what authors do.  
> B r e a k i n g  
> Y o u r  
> H e a r t

When Bucky burst into the room (he couldn't call it a torture chamber, because then it would make it real) there were four or five cronies around Steve. Natasha was right next to him, and she grabbed his arm before he could mutilate all of them.

So, he shot them all in the leg instead as a vicious and merciful compromise.

A few grabbed for their guns but Nat used her Widow's Bites to shock them into submission. While she hog-tied them, Bucky went to work on Steve's restraints.

Bucky tried not to throw up. It wasn't that the sight was more gruesome than the Winter Soldier was used to, but it was seeing _Steve_ like that, like all of his nightmares come to life that got to him. He was hung up like a ragdoll, a puppet on reinforced string. He had barely any strength to hold his head up, so it swung until he decided to rest it on his right shoulder. The top of his suit was ripped and hung loosely around his hips. Bucky put all his focus into the metal magnetic cuffs around Steve's hands, waist, and feet.

The blond grunted every time a tug jarred his body, but even with those small sounds Bucky could tell that his voice was hoarse, his vocal cords still recovering from all the screams--

Bucky tugged harder, panic and urgency rising within his chest. He had to get out of here; more importantly, he had to get _Steve_ out of here.

"...Bucky?" His eyes were swollen shut. Bucky tried to sooth him by pressing the lightest of kisses to his lips (he couldn't kiss Steve's cheek because there were cigarette burns and he saw _red_  for a second--)

"I'm...so glad y'r here, Buck."

Bucky shushed him lovingly. "I always come after my best guy. Can't have ya tryna leave me all alone."

Steve tried to huff, but he was sent into a fit of coughing. Bucky winced and rubbed his back gently. Steve weakly arched away from the touch and Bucky instantly removed his hand. Steve's back felt like it was...peeling.

Bucky’s hand came back dripping red.

Finally, Natasha came over and broke the locks and de-magnetized the restraints. Thank goodness, because Bucky was about to just shoot them off in his haste to help Steve. Once Nat got the hands unlocked, Steve fell forward, his face only saved from smashing into the cold concrete by Bucky's chest. He instantly picked Steve up, trying to ignore the whimpers.

"I'm so sorry, Stevie. I'm so sorry this hurts. I love you, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry," Bucky kept muttering the whole way to the Quinjet. Natasha stayed to keep watch on the Hydra agents.

Once Bucky lay Steve on his side gently onto a cot, Banner shot forward and began trying to find broken bones. (Last time Steve broke something, the dumbass said it would heal on its own, and it did, but the wrong way. Banner had to break it again so it would set right.)

Bucky dropped a light kiss on Steve's temple, whispered, "I'll be back for you, Stevie," and ran out of the Quinjet back to the room, faster than he'd run in a long time.

 

***

 

This time, when Nat tried to grab his arm, he shrugged it off and grabbed the first asshole in the line. His mouth was gagged. Too bad; the Winter Soldier wanted to hear him squeal.

Bucky broke each one of his fingers. Nat watching on the side. She saw as well as Bucky how much Steve was hurt. She kind of--and by kind of Bucky meant vehemently-wanted to see these guys suffer tenfold, just like him.

Bucky took his pocket knife out and went to town on their faces, their stomachs, and for one, an eye. The wailing and crying and screaming fueled Bucky, and Nat finally couldn't watch anymore and started to punch and kick, inflicting her own kind of torture.

A knock came from just outside the door.

Iron Man stood there in all his gold and red glory, and Bucky could tell, even from behind that mask, that the tin can was disgusted with what he saw. But, instead of saying something, he just muttered, "We're leaving. Hill's guys will take over."

Both assassins landed one final punch or kick to the last person they were wailing on, and followed Tony back to the jet.

Bucky didn't want to go near Steve. He wanted to make sure he was okay, but what he just did, Steve would not approve.

As if hearing his train of thought, Nat touched her bloody hand to Bucky's arm before they climbed into the Jet. "You don't have to say anything to Steve. He wouldn't understand. We did what we had to do--to keep our sanity. Okay?"

Bucky nodded wordlessly, his hair waving slightly.

He didn't want to see Steve. And that thought scared him a lot more than most of the things he's experienced in his life.

 

***

 

Turns out Banner wouldn't let Bucky in anyways. He explained to Tony, who explained in less serious terms that "I might hulk out if I have Barnes losing his shit about what happened to him, and I'm already upset about Rogers."

Bucky sulked, trying not to feel relieved, and went to the Quinjet bathroom to wash off and change into less torture-stained clothes. Clothes not drenched in Steve's blood or bile.

He threw up in the shower.

 

***

 

"Sinter Woldier can come in now!" Tony said in a sing-song voice. It would be another hour before they landed in New York.

Bucky walked in, eyes instantly locking with Steve. The blond sagged in relief, the side of his face sinking into the pillow just a fraction more. "Buck. You don't know how happy I am to see your ugly mug."

Bucky could feel his eyes prickling. Steve could barely open his own eyes, but he offered his hand out. Bucky rushed to the chair next to the bed and took that one hand into both of his, metal and all. He took in all the details of his baby's face.

Three cigarette burns on the left cheek, welts shutting both eyes, broken nose already starting to heal, a star cut into his other cheek that turned into a faint scar, and, since Bucky was familiar with Hydra torture, probably one of his back teeth pulled out. He didn't want to look.

"Don't cry, Buck. I had 'em on the ropes."

_No bud,_ you _were the one on the ropes._

"Steve," Bucky sighed shakily instead, "Please don't joke about this." He rested his head on the bed next to Steve's stomach and closed his eyes, a tear slipping out against his will. Steve deserved someone strong right now, just like how he always was when Bucky was crumbling. He deserved better than him. 

Steve took his hand out from both of Bucky's and began stroking Bucky's hair, reminding the brunet of their Friday night tradition. Pizza for dinner, a new movie, popcorn, and Bucky's head in Steve's lap as the latter brushes through knots slowly and kindly and softly.

Another tear slipped through.

Steve just wiped it away and closed his own eyes, his hand with the ripped-out nails patting Bucky's hair comfortingly. In a way Bucky didn't deserve. They both fell asleep.

***

When they landed at the Tower, Banner pulled Bucky to the side and gave him a list of medications, along with how to take care of which wounds and when they would most likely heal. Stark added that he should get his report in sometime this week, "but leave out the medieval torture, 'kay?"

Bucky glared in answer.

Steve didn't want to be put in a wheel chair and argued with Bucky once the plane landed. He tried to sit up and bit back a whimper. "I--I'm _okay,_ Buck. Let me walk out like I still have my dignity."

"Screw your dignity, Rogers, and get in the fuckin' chair." Bucky tried not to yell.

Steve looked up and planned to glare him into submission, like he was usually able to do, but saw in his lover's eyes pure agony. They pleaded for Steve to do this one thing, if not for himself then for Bucky.

Steve grumbled as Bucky picked him up and set him gently into the chair. He tried not to show Bucky how much his whip lashes still ached.

Sam popped onto the landing of Stark's tower from his apartment to say hello.

Upon seeing Bucky place Steve down, Sam grinned, albeit with strain, "Not as light as he looks, is he?"

Bucky grunted. "Not as _bright,_  either."

"I'm right here, you know."

Sam stood up straighter. "You were gone, what, two days? You sound like you've been smokin' a pack of cigarettes every day since you were born."

Bucky shoved Sam on his way out. Steve told Bucky to knock it off, then, almost unconsciously touched his fingers to the circular marks on his cheek.

Sam jogged next to them. "Hey, wait. Did I say something wrong? What happened anyway?"

Bucky glared at him. "Steve got captured by Hydra. We got him today. Now we're going home." Pause. "Alone."

Sam's eyes widened. (He thought Steve was on a recon mission, not tortured near death. Shit, he fucked up. He'll send them an edible arrangement; Steve loved those things.) "All right. If you need anything, let me know. I'm here to talk to, for both of you." He made firm eye contact with the two, as if to bring his point home. "Okay?"

Steve smiled up at the Falcon, though there was something dulled in his usually encouraging grin. Some of the light was gone. "Thanks Sam."

Bucky pushed the close button on the elevator and finally let his shoulders sag. He was so tired, so worried, so stressed.

Steve looked down at his fingers. "You shouldn't be such an asshole to Sam. He's my friend. I can have friends who care about me, right?"

Bucky grunted. "'M sorry, wasn't thinkin'. I just want to get you home and resting, and he was an obstacle. Winter Soldier brain mode, and all that."

Steve stayed quiet for once, probably too tired to argue. Then, as the elevator doors opened, he said said, "See, Buck?" The brunet's head instantly darted down to him, on the alert. "My nails are already growing back."

Bucky wanted to throw up. He told him, "That's good, Stevie," instead, running his fingers through brittle and bloodied blond hair in an attempt to comfort him.

Once in the apartment, Bucky rolled Steve to the bedroom. After gently plopping him on the right side, he went into the kitchen to grab the meds in the cabinet that one of Tony's minions already put away. (He'd talk to Tony about how much he _didn't_  like people getting into their apartment without permission for the 300th time another day.)

When Steve saw the horse pills assigned to him due to the super serum, he groaned and turned his head into the pillow. "Lemme sleep, Buck. Come to bed w'me," he whined, the unnaturally raspy sound of his voice muffled.

Bucky chuckled. "Take your pills and then we'll talk."

Steve glared, then turned onto his back, wincing as pressure was put onto the lashes. They were bandaged up and covered with salve, but his back ached like his lungs used to after an asthma attack.

He could see Bucky wince as if it was his own wound. "Buck. I'm fine. Just gimme the damned meds."

Steve held his hand out and nearly snarled at all the pills, but put them in his mouth anyways. Bucky gave him the water, then put it on the night stand.

Steve made grabby hands. "You promised. Now get over here."

Bucky smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You hungry?" _Because I know for a fact that you haven't eaten for two days. Your sunken eyes said it all._

Steve paled at the mere mention of food. "Um. No. 'M sorry." He closed his eyes and turned his head to the window (blinds closed, as sunlight was too much for him) so that Bucky couldn't see so well what was going on in Steve's brain. Everybody knew his face was an open book.

Bucky got on the bed and placed his right arm gently around him, so that he leaned on Steve's arm but avoided his back and chest, calloused fingers lightly caressing the edge of his shoulder. His other hand, the metal one, took Steve's hand and rubbed his thumb into his palm.

(Horrible words were etched onto his chest. "BITCH" and "COWARD" and "CAP" and at least three other foul words. This is what Bucky first saw when he walked into that horrible room.)

Despite his lashes, Steve turned in the bed so that his back was pressed to Bucky's front. He hissed but barked at Bucky to stay as he situated himself. "Now cuddle me like I'm not a piece of glass, asshole."

Bucky gently let his left arm rest over Steve's lower stomach. There were only bruises and some scratch marks there. He kissed the back of his neck; it was really the only part of Steve not covered in scratches or burns or any other unspeakable torture.

"Let's sleep now and worry about everything tomorrow," Bucky muttered.

"I love you."

"I love you too. I'm so sorry."

Bucky dreamt about Steve dying, and Steve dreamt about his fingernails being tugged out by rusty pliers.

***

"Shower time, buddy," Bucky shoved the shoulder not carved into.

"You know," Steve mused while trying to sit up, his voice groggy from sleep and a little bit of torture. "Your dick has been in my ass before. Many times. Do I really deserve the title "buddy"?"

That got Bucky to laugh and blush a little, and Steve was relieved. Buck didn't completely crawl into himself after all.

They took a bath in the big tub. If this was a normal after-mission, Bucky would have sat himself on Steve's dick.

This time, Bucky had to wash the whip lashes. They were closing up well, but there was still a bit of dirt stuck. Bucky wiped Steve's involuntary tears with the gentleness of which Steve would never tire.

Steve swatted Bucky's hand away more than once. "I'm not completely inept." Bucky just backed off, but not before a kiss on the nose.

By the end, Steve was leaning on Bucky's chest while Bucky ran his fingers through short hair, massaging his scalp. They sat in the tub, refilling it since it got so murky due to Steve's skin. It was warm, and they sat there in the quiet for a time, reveling in the fact that they were here, in this moment, alive, and, miraculously, through it all, they were together.

"You know," Steve whispered, shocking Bucky out of his thoughts. "They first started showing me videos of you being tortured." His voice wavered. Bucky could feel him shaking. His hands froze before continuing to comb the blond hair.

He pressed a kiss to the back of his head. "Steve, I'm so--"

"You screamed my name. They said you weren't even conscious at times and you still said my name. And--" Steve hiccuped, then took a deep breath. His voice still shook. "And I couldn't help you. I kept thinking that as they whipped and shocked me and pulled out my tooth and nails and carved into me like a piece of meat."

Bucky was crying into his neck, and Steve clutched his arms as if needing an anchor.

"So don't apologize to me. Okay? Because you've been where I have been. And we both survived it. Please don't apologize."

Bucky didn't say anything, just shook along with him.

They were, the two of them, damaged beyond repair, but they still had each other.

They had each other.

 

***

 

Two days later, the wounds on Steve's face and chest faded to almost indistinguishable scarring and bruises that would disappear by the end of the day; his nails had grown completely back; his whip lashes had almost completely closed up. Stark promised a new tooth.

Sam came over with those fruit bouquets that Steve loved. Steve, within three days, had only consumed three protein bars and a few glasses of water; but he ate the weird fruit, for Sam's sake. (He threw them up in the bathroom and Sam pretended not to notice.)

The four of them (Tony stopped over) sat on the couch and watched a few Disney movies. Steve leaned into Bucky and fell into a fitful sleep. Tony and Sam tiptoe'd out a few minutes later, allowing the two some privacy.

Soon, Steve was screaming. He was screaming and crying and thrashing and Bucky started petting his hair, murmuring "Wake up Stevie, come back to me. It's okay. I'm here. Come back to me, Steve. I love you."

After more thrashing, which Bucky remedied by wrapping his arms around Steve, the blond sucked in a huge breath and his eyes shot open. Bucky immediately let him go. Steve ran to the bathroom to throw up (well, to retch, since there was really nothing but water and maybe half a protein bar in his system).

Bucky walked in and pet his baby's hair, until his head rested against his leg and he sniffled brokenly.

Bucky carried him to bed and brushed through his hair as Steve rested his head in Bucky's lap. It took a long time for Steve to doze off again, but he would intermittently kiss Bucky's thigh, and clench his fingers into Bucky's shirt, and sniffle. 

Bucky stroked his hair, his face, his shoulders, any place he could, to let Steve know he was there, and he wasn't going anywhere.

 

***

 

Bucky woke up hard.

He was laying on his back, Steve's face squished onto his chest, his leg thrown haphazardly across Bucky's midsection. Steve was always like a koala when he slept, his grip tight even in sleep.

Bucky carefully tried to detach himself from his boyfriend's arms (and leg) but the blond grunted and tugged him impossibly closer to his face. He rubbed his face in Bucky's pecs (adorably) before going back under again.

So, Bucky did what he had to do.

He thought of baseball for about two hours.

And yet, his morning (3-am) wood would not subside. Especially because _someone's_  leg kept fidgeting and rubbing against his erection.

By five, Steve's body clock shocked him into consciousness and he groaned into Bucky's shirt. "I drooled. Sorry," he mumbled, still not moving his face. His arms came more around Bucky, encircling him in a tight embrace.

Bucky dramatically sighed, acting put-upon, when really he was just happy Steve finally got some good sleep. Even if Steve subconsciously edged him for _two hours._

Steve's leg moved _again_  and Bucky's breath hitched; he quickly began to disentangle himself from Steve. "I gotta take--shower. Yeah," He supplied eloquently as he turned to the bathroom. He pressed his thumb and forefinger between his eyes, cringing outwardly at himself.

Steve sat up, his hair perfectly mussed (pressed flat on one side), and asked with a smirk, "Can I come?"

Bucky stopped and turned around.

"Did you..." At Steve's raised eyebrow and that mischievous twinkle in his eyes, Bucky's brow furrowed in a dangerous glare that would make strangers shit themselves.

Steve just grinned. "Not at first. But then you groaned around 4.30, and..."

"Bye." Bucky stalked to the bathroom and pretended not to be happy to hear Steve's footsteps follow him.

The shower was hot, but not scalding, and Bucky waited around with his flesh hand inside just to make sure he'd be comfortable. Steve, on the other hand, (like with everything) jumped right in, grabbing Bucky's arm and tugging him in as well.

At first, things were relatively innocent. Bucky's hard-on flagged a little and he rubbed body wash into Steve's muscles. A lot of the damage had healed over well, but Bucky was still gentle. Steve grunted when he passed across a particularly rough whiplash mark, but stopped Bucky before he could apologize.

By grabbing his dick and giving it a good tug.

"Fuuu--what the hell, Ste--ungh--ve?!"

The man in question merely grabbed Bucky's neck with his free hand and pressed their lips together in a searing kiss. In that kiss was a swell of emotions neither of them could voice, but they could feel all that wasn't said out loud nonetheless. Steve grinned after he stroked Bucky the way he liked, making him moan brokenly into his mouth.

"St--Steve. Lemme--"

Steve just kissed him harder, practically shoving his tongue down his throat and tugging his hair. It was filthy is what it was, and Bucky couldn't breathe.

Finally, Steve separated their lips, his hand only loosely stroking his dick (fucking _t_ _ease_ ) and muttered, "Let's wash our hair and then spend the day in bed."

Bucky, despite his aching blue balls, nodded, bending down frantically for the shampoo. Steve laughed at his eagerness, but turned around dutifully, soaking up the scalp massage that Bucky always gave, soothing him.

***

Bucky loved lying in bed naked after a good shower. It was something about feeling clean and rolling in the lavender-smelling sheets that made him want to sink into the mattress (it was too soft, in Steve's opinion, but he got it anyways--for Bucky).

Bucky also loved lying in bed naked, with a lap full of Steve naked.

Steve, naked, rutting up against him, moaning, pert little ass in each hand...

The scars on his chest all but disappeared, leaving only bare pencil scratches. Bucky kissed Steve's chest with devotion. "I love you," He muttered in the skin.

Steve took his face in his hands and tilted his head up. Bucky couldn't look away from Steve's eyes even if he wanted to, even if he needed to. Even if the world was burning all around them. All he could focus on were those eyes, light blue, with little flecks of green. So perfect.

Steve pressed his plush lips to the corner of Bucky's mouth; gently, reverently. "Prove it."

Bucky grinned up at this man who made his chest swell with joy, and stood up with Steve in his arms like he still weighed 100-odd pounds. Bucky liked to show off for his best guy sometimes, so what?

Steve giggled. He liked it.

Then, Bucky captured Steve's mouth and kissed him deeply, shoving his tongue in almost forcefully. He needed all of Steve, as much as he could take at once. He laid Steve down on the bed gently so that his back and neck were cushioned by pillows. (Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky fussed, all while planting feather-light kisses down his body.) Finally, as Steve's patience was wearing thin (Bucky could tell when he got a not-so-feather-light kick in the butt) he grabbed the lube and a condom, and threw it next to Steve's hip.

Before Steve even knew what was happening, Bucky swallowed him all the way down. Steve's hands grasped for purchase, one hand in Bucky's hand and the other crushing the blankets. They teared instantly. Bucky still didn't let up, his pace slow and dirty, then fast and merciless. He knew just how Steve liked it, and played his body like a fiddle.

A finger, wet and warm, circled Steve's entrance, and he moaned at the promise of what was to come. Bucky popped off of his dick and grinned up at Steve. "Calm down, doll. I'm gettin' there. I got you. I got you here."

"You do, Buck," Steve gulped as he stared earnestly down at him. "You got me."

Bucky's smile sweetened, and he kissed the head of Steve's dick before getting back to work again, not once breaking eye contact.

If Bucky Barnes knew to do one thing, it was giving the best blowjobs Steve had ever experienced. (Not that Steve was even a little experienced before Bucky came along--he felt it still applied, anyways.)

After three fingers sunk into Steve, squelching so loud it made him blush down to his chest and made Bucky laugh, the blond couldn't take it anymore. "C'mon Buck, put it in me," he pleaded. "I need you, need you to fill me up. Fill me up good, Buck. You--you're the only one who knows me. Who knows who I am and how to be with me. C'mon, Buck. Please."

Bucky kissed back up Steve's chest and hushed his ramblings with the press of his lips right under the corner of his jaw. That spot never failed to send shivers down Steve's spine. The brunet kept his mouth partially open, breathing deeply under Steve's ear, nosing at his nape, letting the wetness of his mouth cool there. He whispered, "I'm here, Stevie. My baby." He leaned up on his forearms and stared down at him in such raw love and adoration it made Steve squirm, clench down on emptiness, hump onto Bucky's abs before aborting it and sighing as he lay back down. His body really was sore as all hell, even after all these days. 

"I got you. 'Til the end of the line."

Steve nodded, tears prickling in his eyes. "'Til the end--ah, ah, yes, Buck--til the end of the line. You're it for--for me." Then, Steve sunk into the feeling of being as physically close as possible to the one person that mattered most to him. 

Bucky panted, his baby was so tight and gorgeous, squirming under him in ecstasy. "You always take me so good, honey. Don't know what I did to deserve you, you're a fucking miracle, Steve. Don't know what I'd do with--ungh--without you." He kept his pace slow, steady, being careful not to ruck Steve's body up to the banister, like they usually fucked. 

This, this was making love. In the most intimate way. 

Bucky wrapped his arms about Steve, clutching him close to his chest and continuing his rhythmic pace. Steve responded by raking his hands up and down his back. Bucky kissed his head, all over his face, his lips.

Steve's gorgeous, bitten-red lips. 

And then his vision blurred and he shuddered in Steve's arms as he came, the high so delicious and freeing. 

Steve couldn't help but follow two, three, four deep thrusts later, his orgasm going off like a hair trigger. He had been holding back until Bucky came, so that he could come with him.

Then Bucky rolled onto his back, taking Steve with him, still thrust deep inside. Steve leaned his head on Bucky's chest and clenched and pet any skin he could reach.

There was nothing to say, for it was all said without words already.

Steve kissed his heart reverently, that heart that felt so much and experienced so much pain, Steve just wanted the press of his lips to heal it all. He sighed, rubbing his face between Bucky's pecs and closed his eyes, drifting off. Bucky petted his hair and hummed softly.

"Goodnight, Stevie."

**Author's Note:**

> Kisses and kudos ! Read some of my other works if youd like :) They're usually happier than this


End file.
